


In terms of words I've never heard

by Cecils-tentacles (Heavydirtys0ul)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil is Mostly Human, Eldritch Abomination Cecil, Hispanic!Carlos, Homophobia, M/M, OP needs a hug, Racism, Tentacles, angsty but Cecil kicks ass so, carlos needs a hug, use of f slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 02:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20987018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/Cecils-tentacles
Summary: Carlos had always known Cecil to be a little outside of his day to day life, as is all of Night Vale, but there is something he never thought that the DJ would have trouble with understanding.





	In terms of words I've never heard

The scientist had invited Cecil back home with him, to meet his parents; half way across America and the first time that the strange man had ever left Night Vale. He’d jumped upon seeing pens, and almost screeched at the sight of sandwiches on the airplane. “Wheat,” He whispered frantically “What if it…_transforms?”_And Carlos had expected these things, had expected to explain the rest of the world isn’t Night Vale.

He hadn’t expected _this_. He had never have thought or understood that Cecil didn’t know what those words meant, words that Carlos had heard his entire life. He’d wondered absently how Cecil had felt so free to gush about his male crush on live radio, he hadn’t understood then or since then that Night Vale simply didn’t have _homophobia_.

They’d been walking down the road together, a few hours after arriving Carlos has insisted on showing Cecil the sights. Holding hands, they were walking down the sidewalk as Carlos gushed about his hometown, words falling out of his mouth at a hundred miles an hour and a picture of excitement, free hand gesturing wildly as he always does when explaining things. Cecil was listening attentively but mostly admiring his lover’s enigmatic way of talking when he’s excited. Something he could fall in love with again and again and _again_.

A man walks past, hood up, skin pale and a disgusted look crosses his face “Faggots” He growls and pushes past Carlos, shoving the feather light man into Cecil a little. The man keeps walking, he doesn’t stop, and Carlos goes very quiet as his gaze falls to the pavement. The radio host notices the change in his boyfriend’s manner and glances back at the man.

“Hey!” His deep voice calls “Watch where you’re going! You could’ve hurt him!” Carlos’ face flushes a little and tugs Cecil arm to keep him moving, shaking his head.

“Leave it Ceec, come on,” The scientist mutters hurriedly as the man starts to turn around, a look in his eyes that spells something of trouble. Had Cecil not heard what they’d been called? Is he trying to start a fight? Can either of them take this guy in a fight? Carlos’ mind runs at a hundred miles an hour as each question remains unanswered. The man shouts that word again, and Cecil looks so adorably confused. Like a puppy who has just had it’s favourite toy taken away from him.

"What does that mean?” Cecil asked, purple eyes full of heavy confusion.

Carlos’ heart stammers and then shatters in his chest like smashed glass. He’d always known that Night Vale was different, always known it was strange but he’d never paid enough attention to realize that nobody ever seemed to care about the fact some people are gay. “It’s…a derogatory term,” Carlos whispered “For men who like men and women who like women,” And fuck he hadn’t expected that look either, something furious and worried grows on Cecil’s face and he turns back to look at the man who seems to be waiting to see if he sees anything else. “Cecil just leave it, it’s fine, well it’s not but…there’s no point getting into a fight over it,”

“You’ve dealt with this your entire life? People saying things like that?” Cecil’s eyes go very dark and Carlos can see the tattoos moving under his skin. Carlos nods slowly, and that’s all the confirmation the other gets before he’s starting after the man.

“Cecil!” Carlos grabs his wrist “Please, don’t, the last thing I need is you killing a guy over me,” Cecil stares at him, eyes dark in a way that would be terrifying to anyone else but Carlos has seen Cecil enough times to know he’s nothing but a protective guard dog on a good day. Cecil sighs, and nods and allows him self to be dragged back home.

It’s not the last time it happens before they head back to Night Vale.

The first couple of times Cecil bites his tongue and ignores it, because that’s what Carlos wants him to do and he doesn’t want to put Carlos in an uncomfortable situation, or in danger. So he takes it, he learns a lot of new words that he wish he didn’t learn. For the first time in his life he felt bad about his sexuality, felt insecure holding his boyfriend’s hand. He hated that, feeling like a caged animal and wishing to go back to the death and destruction of Night Vale so he didn’t have to face these awful words a second longer.

The fourth time, no one is quite as lucky as to avoid Cecil’s wrath.

It had been a group of men in their early twenties, all extremely pale with heavy American accents, wearing tracksuits that looked more expensive that Cecil’s entire studio. They’d used a word that Cecil hadn’t heard before but it sounded poisonous when they spat it. This time they weren’t looking at Cecil, but straight at Carlos. Cecil didn’t recognise the word. He doesn’t know what they mean when they say to Carlos in such a vicious way “Go back to your own country,” He doesn’t know what any of it means, but he does know that they shove Carlos so hard that he slams against a fence, and he does know that Carlos is in danger. He doesn’t want Carlos to be in danger, and he doesn’t like the way they’re talking about his fiancée, and he wants Carlos to be safe. So Cecil, a little scared and a little jumpy and a little sick of what Carlos called normal, places himself between the group of men and his lover with clenched fists.

“Ceec don’t,” Carlos whispered weakly, rubbing the back of his now sore head. Cecil shakes his head.

“They’re hurting you and going to keep hurting you,” I have to protect you, because you won’t do it yourself. How many more bruises do these people have to put on him, on their hearts, before Carlos decides enough is _enough_? Cecil won’t let them hurt Carlos.

But, Cecil isn’t exactly normal people standards of Human. Carlos watches the tattoos move, ready to break free. The men don’t notice and keep advancing, Carlos tries to warn them, but they won’t listen. Too busy jeering and teasing.

But they do notice when the tattoos break free from Cecil’s skin and start to manifest in the air around him, long and heavy tentacles that stretch intimidatingly. The tattoo of the eye on his forehead blinks, his teeth and nails sharpening. Then, Cecil growls, cracking his neck.

Carlos remembers once, the first time he’d seen Cecil’s body in a way he couldn’t control it, the radio host had been shy and bashful and babbling about how he knows he’s a bit _weird_.

He’s not shy right now. He’s furious.

The men trip over each other to get away from them, but Cecil smirks and a tentacle slams around the backs of their head, knocking them flying. “An eye for an eye,” Cecil says simply. The tentacles wrap around their necks, lifting them up off the ground. He watches their legs kick and bodies squirm, watching their faces go pale and the blood drain, he watches until he hears Carlos speak.

“That’s enough, let them go Cecil,” The man pauses, watching the terrified faces of men who had thought they were so very tough. But he does as he’s told, he lets them go, lets them scramble away from them both before his body reassumes it’s more traditionally Human form. Cecil turns around.

“I don’t know what they meant,” He whispered “But they hurt you, are you okay?” His hands delicately touch Carlos’ face and then the back of his head, checking him over frantically to see if there are any injuries. “What was it this time?”

“Racism,” Carlos mutters. Cecil shakes his head, another word he doesn’t want to know and now has to know. He hates people, he decides, hates people so badly. He wishes he could strangle every person who has ever hurt his Carlos. “It is essentially hatred of someone based on their ethnic background,”

“Why would…you know what? I don’t think I’ll ever understand, but I will protect you,” He wraps his arms around Carlos, before sagging a little “But who will protect people like you, like us?” He whispered “I assume there are a lot more people who are…”

“Gay, and not white,” Carlos chuckles humourlessly “No one protects people like me enough, or people like us, but we can’t fix the whole world Cecil, it’s impossible,” He rests his head on his boyfriends collarbone, nuzzling against him “People will always find a reason to hate, and there’s nothing you or I can do to solve that, unfortunately science doesn’t actually fix everything, or explain everything,” He squeezes Cecil’s hands reassuringly “But I can help you educate yourself a bit more, but it’s sad, I won’t lie it will make you sad, but if you want…”

“I do,” Cecil nods “I want to know about these things, I want to understand, but first I just…want to go _home_, with you, where I know we’ll both be safe,” Carlos smiles in understanding.

“Okay, let’s do that,”


End file.
